


It’s Possible (For a Plain Country Bumpkin and a Prince to Join in Marriage)

by AeonTheDimensionalGirl



Series: Merthur Week 2020✨👑 [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur is So Done (Merlin), Ballroom Dancing, Canon Era, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Merlin is So Done (Merlin), Merlin is a Little Shit (Merlin), Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 03, people telling you you have to marry is exhausting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeonTheDimensionalGirl/pseuds/AeonTheDimensionalGirl
Summary: “You’re an idiot” Arthur said with a grin as he put some space between them so he could spin Merlin, who only laughed in delight.“But you love me” Merlin shot back as the Crown Prince held him close once again, pressing their foreheads together.Merlin becomes his own fairy godfather to go to a ball he’s been forbidden to attend.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merthur Week 2020✨👑 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030797
Comments: 39
Kudos: 250
Collections: Merthur Week 2020





	It’s Possible (For a Plain Country Bumpkin and a Prince to Join in Marriage)

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1: “You’re an idiot.” “But you love me.” + Fluff

“I’m sorry, Uther stated in his will that you had to do _what_ to become King?” Merlin asked in a low voice, feeling fury begin to take over him while Arthur let out a heavy sigh behind his hands.

“I have to get married in order to take the throne” the blond repeated with a defeated tone, looking more tired than ever. Merlin’s heart ached for him, “There’s no use in arguing with the council, Father made sure for that to be his last wish and if by the end of a fortnight there’s not a spouse by my side, I cannot become King”

Merlin had always thought that when Uther died, everyone in Camelot would be able to breathe a little more easily and life would be a little less complicated.

So of course, the fucker made sure to leave out one last plan to make Arthur’s life miserable before kicking the bucket.

“So… what will you do?” the warlock asked, dread filling his stomach at his dear friend’s miserable look.

“I have to get married to someone of noble blood, Merlin” Arthur whispered, eyes bright with tears that he would refuse to acknowledge, “There’s no loophole in the rules”

Now Merlin did feel his heart truly break.

Lately, he and the Crown Prince had been dancing around each other, the line of friendship and something more almost invisible ever since they were hiding from the Le Fey sisters when they took over Camelot.

And when Uther died, their moments together had been intimate enough for Merlin to hope-

But then Arthur had been called to the emergency council meeting shortly after the King’s funeral, and now this was on the way.

He blinked away the tears that threatened to spill.

“Well” Merlin whispered, hoping that his voice to not break, “You’ll have me by your side when the time comes”

Arthur let out a wounded sound.

“I don’t want to do this, Merlin” the blond said, burring his head onto his arms. Merlin still caught sight of the tear that fell from his eye.

“I know” he murmured, placing his hand on Arthur’s shoulder.

They stayed silent for a moment, the Prince hiding his face as he quietly lost his composure, and the warlock stared at the flames in the fireplace, feeling empty.

“You’ll really stay beside me?” Arthur asked, breaking the silence as he turned his head to peer at the raven.

His eyes were red-rimmed.

“Well, I’ve stuck long enough and through your worst clotpole moments” Merlin said with a wry smile, “And let me remind you, prat: I’m happy to be your servant until the day I die”

“I don’t want you to just be my servant” Arthur said, eyes bright.

Merlin’s breath hitched.

“Court Sorcerer then?” he asked, testing the waters.

But Arthur pursed his lips before looking down onto the table.

“Yes” he replied, voice idly distant, “Yes I suppose so, eventually-”

What Arthur said next was too low for Merlin to hear, but he could have sworn it was,

“It will only be that, at the end”

* * *

After a sennight of preparations that had been taken over by Lord Agravaine, the day of the ball arrives.

Because of the amount of guests, it was decided that the courtyard would be the best place to hold the festivities, so for the whole day and hours in which the sun is out, the servants and other workers hired for the event transform the plaza into an outdoor ballroom.

The main entrance to the courtyard had been closed at the end of the previous day; everyone invited had been requested to arrive that same day in order to host the guests for the night before and after the festivities in order to create a secluded place.

Arthur spends the entire day locked in his chambers avoiding the guests, basking in Merlin’s company. If this is the last night of bachelorhood he is to have before being forced to choose a bride, there is no one else the blond would rather spend it with.

He doesn’t regret it one bit, his dear friend serving as the best distraction for him to forget about tonight with castle gossip, childhood tales and even chess revenges; but eventually the sun goes down and the light mood between the two men sours.

Arthur’s movements are stiff and distracted as Merlin prepares him for the ball, he’s not even aware that he’s fully dressed until his dear friend snaps his fingers in front of his face.

Blinking, he briefly catches Merlin’s worried stare before breaking the gaze to look in the mirror.

If it were any other occasion, Arthur would have admired the outfit that was tailored for the ball: a high collared white tunic that brought out the red and gold brocade sleeveless doublet that was accompanied by a belt around his waist, with dark brown breeches and boots completing the look- but the outfit only made him feel more despondent over the decision that he would inevitably have to make tonight.

“Be honest with me” Arthur said, turning to his friend, “How do I look?”

Merlin hummed, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Like a pompous prat” the raven replied. Arthur snorted.

“Not a royal one?” he asked, raising an eyebrow in slight challenge and confusion. That was, after all, the word that went next to Merlin’s favorite insult to him.

The warlock simply hummed again, pursing his lips as his eyes studied the Crown Prince, who valiantly tried to hide the shiver that ran on his spine.

“You’re right” Merlin said, nodding to himself, “Something’s missing”

“ _That_ would be my circlet” Arthur drawled, trying not to smile at Merlin’s eye roll.

“You don’t need it”

“I don’t need it?”

“Why wear it? Everyone knows who you are-” the raven replied with a smirk.

“ _Mer_ lin-”

“Also, I may have a gift for you” Merlin revealed in a rush and with a grin. Arthur closed his mouth, opting instead to raise an eyebrow, looking around for a brief moment but not finding anything that could be passed as a gift in his chambers, turning to squint at the raven.

Merlin, however, simply chuckled before whispering a spell, his eyes becoming the beautiful shade of gold Arthur had grown accustomed to for the past four years.

He was so distracted by the magic that he didn’t noticed something being placed on his shoulders until he took in the rustle of fabric behind him at the same time Merlin’s eyes stopped glowing and he took a small step backwards like he always did to admire his handiwork.

Giving his dear friend one last questionable look, Arthur turned to face the mirror-

He couldn’t help but gasp in awe.

A cape had been added to the ensemble, the red a shade a bit darker than the usual Camelot color but stunning nonetheless with a metallic gleam on the fabric. It was clipped to the shoulders seams of the doublet by little golden dragons, and it trailed to a stop below his calves.

“Merlin…” Arthur didn’t know what to say, the words not forming in his mouth.

“Thank you?”

“Yeah”

His friend chuckled.

“You’re welcome” Merlin replied, walking over to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the fabric.

Not that Arthur minded his touch.

“Now you truly look like a royal prat” the warlock laughed lightly, and the Crown Prince couldn’t help but huff out a laugh of his own.

“I still need to wear the circlet, you know”

“It clashes with your outfit, my lord” Merlin’s smirk died down to an endearing smile, “Besides, the only crown you should be wearing next is the King’s crown, and I already talked to Gwen and we both agreed it should be a darker gold”

“Is that so?” Arthur questioned as he furrowed his brow, “Why?”

To his surprise, Merlin blushed.

“Er- so your hair will stand out more” he mumbled, fumbling with the comb he’d just grabbed to further style Arthur’s hair and avoiding the blond’s shocked eyes.

Arthur was about to say something, really, he was, but at that moment the doors to his chambers busted open, his uncle Agravaine entering shortly.

“In all readiness? We cannot begin until you are in the courtyard, Arthur” he said, leveling the Crown Prince with a look.

“I-” he gulped, turning to look at Merlin with barely hidden panic.

_‘No, I don’t want this, I want to marry for love’_

His friend could only smile sadly at him.

“…Yes” Arthur finally replied, forcing himself to breathe deeply to calm himself, nodding to Agravaine, “Let’s go, Mer-”

“Your manservant stays” his uncle interrupted. Arthur stiffened, feeling Merlin do the same next to him.

“Beg your pardon?” the Crown Prince asked with indignation, “He’s my servant, and therefore he is to be at my beck and call at the ball”

“In those tatters?” Agravaine asked, looking at Merlin with disdain, “Arthur, your image is impacted by the state of your servant’s clothes”

A righteous fury took over the Crown Prince.

Tatters?!

Sure, Merlin didn’t own the most luxurious clothes, but this was a horrible exaggeration. Ignoring the overtunic Camelot’s servants wore for the parties, his friend was dressed in his nicest tunic, a periwinkle blue that Arthur himself had gifted him for his name-day, and breeches.

“Merlin is wearing the same clothes all the attending servants must wear on events like these” Arthur hissed, “If you took a look out to the courtyard, you would see that I’m right, Uncle”

Agravaine simply chuckled, as if Arthur were a stubborn child who was refusing to wear the fancy clothes for a feast.

“Of course, I realize I was not clear” the Lord sneered, “A common serving bastard has no place next to the future King of Camelot. Your future wife will disapprove to see him at the ball, and frankly so would everyone else. Only the servants with the best performance will attend tonight”

One could hear a pin drop from the silence that took over the room.

Arthur could feel Merlin trembling next to him in fury, or perhaps it was himself on behalf of the dearest person to him.

He wanted nothing more than to scream at his uncle for the cruelty he was putting Merlin through; no one knew that Merlin had been claimed by his father, and even if the secret were out, people were not going to let him forget that he had been born out of wedlock.

The worst part of this all was that Arthur could not protest the decision, his father (and subsequently, the council, to the loyal exception of Gaius and Geoffrey) had given complete reign to Agravaine in matters of the state until Arthur took a spouse and had a larger crown sitting on his head representing a higher title.

“You can’t do this” Merlin spoke lowly. Arthur turned to look at him, and felt his heart break when he took in the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes.

“I can” Agravaine said, still sneering, “I don’t see what the fuss is about, you’re just a serving boy”

Giving them one last look, he turned to Arthur, bowed lightly, and exited the room, clearly expecting the Crown Prince to follow immediately.

But Arthur didn’t, staring at a desolate Merlin, wishing he could take him to the ball so he wouldn’t rip his hair out in frustration and also to enjoy the company of his most trusted friend-

“Go” Merlin whispered, voice cracking and yet daring to smile at him, “I’ll be fine”

“Merlin-” Arthur raised his hand-

“My lord, the guests” his uncle called from the doorway.

Reluctantly, the Crown Prince let his hand fall before turning away to exit his chambers, giving Merlin one last glance of regret before following.

* * *

Merlin felt like he couldn’t breathe.

It wasn’t fair.

It was so, so fucking unfair.

All because he was a bastard?

Merlin had hopped this rejection had been left behind in Ealdor years ago, but alas- here it was, coming back to bite him when he’d only wanted to be by Arthur’s side in a moment of extreme stress and unhappiness.

He’s not sure how long he stays frozen and with tears running down his face in Arthur’s bedchambers, but by the time he runs back to his room, one can hear the music and laughter coming from the courtyard.

The raven is thankful that Gaius is not there to see him sobbing. He’s thankful no one is.

After a while, when it feels like there weren’t any more tears left to cry, Merlin miserably wondered how wonderful it would have been to receive an invitation if his Dragonlord status were known-

Hang on.

The warlock sat up, mind reeling as it replayed the conversation from a week ago.

_“I have to get married to someone of noble blood”_

Arthur had showed him Uther’s will later that night, both of them trying to find a loophole-

And it had indeed just said: Someone of noble blood.

_Someone._

Breathing heavily, Merlin reaches unto the small wooden box hidden in the floorboards under his bed, where he’d taken to keeping his most precious (and magical) possessions.

Almost shaking, the raven took out the silver seal his father had passed onto him shortly before his death, running his fingers through the triskelion of dragons that stood out in the middle of the coin.

Could it be possible?

Could this be the loophole to Uther’s plans?

… Could this be a chance to be with Arthur?

Standing up with some difficulty thanks to his shaking legs, the warlock forced himself to calm down in order to properly organize his thoughts.

Even if it went awry, it would still be fun to attend a party not as a servant for the first time in his life.

And- it’s almost a foolish thought, but Merlin craves nothing more than to make his King happy- and even if Arthur didn’t return his affections- well, at least it could be a ruling partnership.

Better to rule with a friend than a total stranger, right?

Breathing deeply, feeling determined, Merlin gently put down his family sigil on top of his bed before turning around to conjure up a mirror like the one in Arthur’s bedchambers.

Agravaine might have been degrading his clothes to be cruel, but unfortunately he was slightly right- these were not the clothes a nobleman wore at a ball.

But, he did have the means to get some.

Smiling, the warlock whispered a similar incantation like the one he’d used for Arthur’s cape and Merlin lets his magic have full reign into the design, he even keeps his eyes closed to avoid spoiling himself a moment too early.

He can’t help but smile wider as he feels his magic humming with content while sensing and hearing the rustle of the cotton and linen shift and transform into heavier yet comfortable fabric and at the same time, he feels an additional layer of weight on his shoulders.

It’s not until his magic has stopped humming that Merlin dares to open his eyes and look into the mirror-

And gasps.

“Mother, Maiden and Crone” he whispers as a grin takes over his face, letting out a disbelieving laugh, “Yeah, I think this will do it”

* * *

Despite having known that hundreds of invitations were sent to the noble houses of Camelot, nothing prepared Arthur for the amount of ladies who showed up to the event.

“How many women have been invited to this ball?” Arthur whispered with barely concealed horror as noblewoman number thirty- or was it forty?- curtsied and smiled at him in an almost predatory way, giving her a polite bow and smile almost in a haste.

“All of the eligible ones with noble blood” Agravaine answered with a grin next to him, “All of them respectable choices to become your bride at the end of the night” he laughed at his nephew’s face, “Worry not, by the time the midnight bell rings, your choice will not be fought”

“Lovely” Arthur gritted out. From the corner of his eye, he can see the Knights of the Round Table enjoying themselves, and wished he could be doing the same.

By the time it came to dancing, the Crown Prince was ready to run himself with his sword.

Again, so much women to choose from, so little time, and to make haste, someone (Arthur was willing to bet it had been Gwaine) had urged the musicians to begin playing a fast tracking song while woman after woman was thrown at him to dance and make small talk for a few seconds before the next one followed.

If Arthur has to dance with one more lady who will bat her eyelashes at him and speak of her futures virtues as Queen, he’s really going to run himself with his sword, the Once and Future King talk that Merlin loves to recite to bring him confidence be damned.

And thinking of Merlin just makes his heart ache. He wishes he were here-

It’s until he realizes he’s been thrown a new dancing partner, who happened to be a flustered Percival, that a break is called on the dancing.

“Someone caught your eye yet?” Leon asks him with a sympathetic voice as Arthur drags himself to a table.

“No” he replied, petulant.

“And time is running out” Lancelot said with a worried tone, “The bell sounded-”

What he’s about to say next is drowned by the trumpets announcing a new and quite late arrival.

Sighing, Arthur turns to look at the new comer, preparing the same polite greeting smile he’d given all of the guests-

And feels his breath be knocked out of his lungs.

There’s a man on top of the stairs to the courtyard.

And he’s-

He is absolutely, with most certainly, the most ethereally divine man Arthur has ever seen.

He’s dressed in a sleeveless doublet like Arthur, but the color is a blue so dark that it makes the silver and faint gold embroidery woven to it glitter under the moonlight and the fires that light up the courtyard like the stars above in the sky, decorated with golden trims around the edges that makes his black high collared tunic stand out alongside the dark breeches, waist-belt and boots; his dark black hair is combed to the side, the ends curling slightly while there seem to be small crystals spread around the locks and it all goes wonderful with his fair skin and high cheekbones-

But what brings out the most attention is the golden cape that delicately falls behind him, almost floating were it ends at his calves. It’s a beautiful and shiny shade the Crown Prince swears to have seen before, in the eyes of a boy he wishes with all his might to be by his side right now-

“Who is he?”

Arthur hears the guests murmur to each other in curiosity and hisses of jealousy, and he himself is asking who the beautiful yet mysteriously _familiar_ stranger could be-

Until the new guest begins to descend the stairs, and their eyes meet.

And Arthur gasps in recognition before letting out a disbelieving laugh, because he knows of only one person with a shade of azure eyes with flecks of gold in them.

Mother, Maiden and Crone.

_Merlin._

The crowd parts as the warlock reaches the end of the stairs, almost as if they knew that he’d caught the Crown Prince’s attention.

Arthur didn’t realize he’d been walking until he meets Merlin at the center of the courtyard.

“You’re here” he says, staring wide eyed at the flustered warlock in front of him, still unbelieving while also appreciating his friend’s appearance. The outfit fitted him, like he was born to look like this.

“Yes” Merlin replied, giving him a small grin while his ears tinted with pink, “Er- Surprise?”

The Crown Prince huffed a laugh, shaking his head before swallowing nervously.

Merlin was here as a guest.

The musicians were already preparing a melody, a lute faintly beginning to be strung.

“Er-” he held out his hand in invitation, “May I have this dance?”

For a moment, Arthur fears he’ll say no, watching Merlin’s eyes go wide in slight panic, but relief quickly comes when he places his hand on the blond’s, a shy smile forming on his lips.

“Yes”

Wordlessly, Arthur steps closer to the raven, sliding his free arm behind Merlin’s waist, pulling him even closer enough to hear his breath hitch just as the music begins to play.

He guides his dearest through the first steps, delicately swaying him before taking hold of his hand once more as the melody began to increase, Merlin placing his free hand on his shoulder.

“I see you decided to tell Agravaine to go fuck himself” Arthur said, breaking the silence while gliding the warlock across the floor, who surprisingly followed with a grace the blond had only seen in the battlefield when he wielded his magic.

“Well, someone had to” Merlin replied, wrinkling his nose in disdain, “Besides, he made it personal when he called me a common serving bastard”

“Your anger is understandable” Arthur replied in agreement, smirking when he briefly caught his uncle’s scornful look when he spun both himself and his partner before gazing back at Merlin.

“Besides, I-” the raven adverted his eyes to the floor, chewing his lip like he did when nervous, “I wanted to see if I had a chance here”

Oh, right.

The ball.

The ball only nobles could attend.

He was supposed to look for a spouse tonight.

“Someone of noble blood, _Mer_ lin” Arthur stressed, trying and failing to ignore how his heart leaped to his throat while his stomach fluttered at the warlock’s admission.

“Yes, I understood that, I am one after all” Merlin said with an eye roll before smiling shyly, “But it never said it had to be a _woman_ ”

He said it so with such a rush that the blond though he had imagined it, but he took in how his dear friend’s cheeks flushed with pink, azure eyes bright with tentative hope.

And-

Oh.

_Oh._

Arthur let out a laugh as he realized that the raven was _right_.

Nowhere in the rules had Uther left had it stated that he must marry a woman.

He looked back at the man in his arms, who was still staring at him with timid and longing eyes.

His breath caught in further realization.

Arthur knew very well who Merlin’s father had been.

He himself had watched Balinor Ambrosius proudly declare him his son moments before his death, the family sigil passed through tears and acceptance.

_It was possible._

Without warning, Arthur dipped Merlin, chuckling when his partner let out a small squeak in surprise and gripped the blond’s shoulder and cape to hold on.

Not that Arthur would ever let him fall.

“This was the most rubbish proposal I’ve ever heard” he said softly before bumping their noses together.

“That doesn’t sound like one of your ‘no’s” his partner whispered as they slowly rose back up, eyes bright with hope.

For a moment, it’s like the world has stopped. Arthur doesn’t know if the music is still playing, if the guests are still gossiping and wondering who the beautiful man dancing with the Crown Prince is.

All he can focus on is Merlin, who went out of his way to actually find a loophole in a set of rules that were tightly woven to make Arthur’s life miserable; one that Arthur wouldn’t mind at all submitting to.

“It’s not” he finally reveals with a small smile, guiding Merlin through the dancing.

“Oh, good” the warlock replied with evident relief, his movements coming out more smooth, “Because if you had said ‘no’, I was ready to flee and live as a cave hermit for the rest of my life”

“You’re an idiot” Arthur said with a grin as he put some space between them so he could spin Merlin, who only laughed in delight.

“But you love me” Merlin shot back as the Crown Prince held him close once again, pressing their foreheads together.

“Gods be damned” he murmured softly, bringing his hand upwards to cup Merlin’s cheek, “I do”

And brought their lips together into a chaste kiss, his beloved sighing as he melted onto Arthur’s embrace, placing his hand over the back of the blond’s head while their kiss deepened.

In the distance, the midnight bell rang.

* * *

“But-!” Agravaine was becoming an interesting shade of purple, “He’s a man!”

The guests were looking back and forth while their soon to be King, his chosen and his uncle continued to have an angry staring match, some (read: Gwaine and Elyan) even eating grapes while gleefully watching the confrontation.

Arthur simply tilted his head, and Merlin had to fight the urge to grin voraciously at the last De Bois.

“I thought that my choice would not be fought?” the Crown Prince innocently asked as he tighten his hold on the raven’s waist, “It _is_ the end of the night, and I have chosen Merlin”

“He is nothing but a servant! He is of no noble blood!” the Lord spat.

Now Merlin did smile at Agravaine.

“Actually” he began to say as he reached into his pocket and took out his trump card, “I _am_ ”

The people around them let out a collective gasp of shock and recognition at the seal the warlock held, while Agravaine paled.

“That- that’s-” he stammered eyes wide and unbelieving.

“The sigil of the Ambrosius family, yes” Merlin sweetly revealed, seeing Arthur smirk from the corner of his eye.

“Merlin is the son of the deceased Dragonlord, Balinor Ambrosius” the Crown Prince proudly announced.

“Sorcery then!” Agravaine claimed with a gleam in his eye. Merlin simply raised an eyebrow in amusement while Arthur snorted.

“Afraid that’s not possible, Lord Agravaine” Gaius interjected, almost smirking, “Prince Arthur has been wearing an anti-love spell amulet with him for a few years to avoid this type of problem”

Personally made by Merlin, mind you, after Arthur begged for one following one too many incidents. The spell was tightly woven onto the blond’s ring.

“Anything else to say, Uncle?” the Crown Prince asked, a challenge in his voice.

For a moment, Merlin thought Agravaine was going to say something, or possibly die of asphyxiation, because that shade of purple really didn’t look healthy for a man of his age.

“No, my lord” Agravaine gritted out, bowing almost mockingly to Merlin and Arthur before turning around to leave the courtyard in a flurry of anger.

“Well, he is going to be the fun relative, isn’t he?” Merlin mussed, watching the lord angrily stomp on the steps.

“Bold of you to assume I’m letting him around Camelot after this behavior” Arthur said, looking perturbed, “I have a feeling he won’t be a good council”

“Oh, thank the gods” Merlin couldn’t help but say in relief. His beloved simply chuckled before kissing his brow.

* * *

By the next sennight, the sun shone brightly on the newly crowned King Arthur and Prince Consort Merlin of Camelot.

**Author's Note:**

> Me @ Me: How many references to my favorite Cinderella stories can I write into this fic?


End file.
